Date: Tue, 1 Aug 1995 18:44:37 -0700 From: LC Fenster Subject: Outta Here Well, I started out trying to write a story for Susan Garrett's birthday, and ended up writing a story for Pam Rush, so I guess this is dedicated to both of you guys! It's also a response to the challenge to write out our three soon- to-be-departed-and-already-greatly-missed characters. Hope you like it. (Fwiw, I did. :-) ) Comments, as always, welcomed by Laurie Fenster, lucienlc@ix.netcom.com, who fervently hopes that the last line will remain accurate. OUTTA HERE Nick looked up from the report he was typing and casually checked his watch. He groaned to himself. His partner was going to be in the soup for sure this time. A few minutes was one thing, but Schanke was almost an hour late for his shift. Nick had called his home, his car phone. Nothing. Nada. And Captain Reese hadn't been around long enough since being transferred into the precinct to cut him any slack. Captain Cohen might have; they'd recently cleared up a couple of baffling murder cases, but she had been kicked upstairs and was now ensconced at Toronto Police Headquarters. As if echoing his thoughts, Captain Reese poked his head out of his office. "Knight?" "Yes, Captain?" "Where's your partner? Have you heard from him?" "I'm sure he'll be along any minute now," Nick replied. "That isn't what I asked," he pointed out. "Tell him I want to see him in my office the moment he arrives." Nick winced as he closed the door. Hard. Five minutes later, Schanke bounced into the precinct, looking like he owned the world. Oblivious to the sea of disapproving frowns surrounding him, he greeted everyone he passed with a handshake or a smile. "All right, people, listen up, Dandy Don has an announcement to make!" Nick, scenting disaster, hastily rose and walked over to his partner. He could almost smell the alcohol on his breath from twenty feet away. He glanced furtively at the Captain's closed office, hoping he hadn't heard the disturbance. Hoping things were still containable. Though he tended to doubt it. "Why don't you tell us later, Schank?" Nick suggested. He tried to make eye contact, hoping to make it less a suggestion than a command. Unfortunately, his partner refused to cooperate, his eyes roaming about the room to ensure that he had everyone's attention. "You know what your problem is, Knight? You can't stand for anyone else to have the limelight." "Schank --" At that moment, Captain Reese emerged from his office. "What is going on, Detectives?" he demanded, joining the group clustered around his truant employee. "Good to see you, Captain. I'm handing in my resignation." There was a collective gasp, and several sets of eyes rolled in disbelief. "Schanke --Don-- look, whatever has happened, I'm sure it can be worked out." Nick tried to reassure his partner, tried to bring him out of whatever odd mood had occasioned this dramatic announcement. "Worked out? What the hell has to be worked out?" Schanke took a deep breath. "Look closely, boys and girls, you are looking at the grand prize winner of the Ariachos Gourmand Contest." Dead silence. "The what?" Nick asked. "The Ariachos Gourmand Contest. What a kick, right?! You know how many lottery tickets I've bought over the years without winning a dime, and I end up winning the grand prize in a contest I don't even remember entering." Nick experienced a sinking sensation in his stomach. "Are you sure this is all on the up and up?" "Looks like. I've had my friend Bob in the Prosecutor's Office check these guys out. He says they're legit. Ariachos is some big multinational outfit. Got their hands in a little bit of everything -- shipping, oil, food ... Souvlaki." He grinned widely as he kissed his fingers. "They sponsor these oddball international contests every few years. This one was describe the delights of Ariachos' souvlaki in 50 words or less'". He chuckled. "Must have filled out the application form at Nakos' without thinking about it. Tell you the truth, I can't even remember what I wrote. But it must have been good!" He wriggled with uncontainable glee. "So what's the prize, Detective?" Captain Reese interjected. "Get this, Captain. The big M'. One million smackeroos, American. Read em and weep, kiddies. Dandy Don's made the big time." "One million dollars." Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. Judging from the envious and shellshocked expressions around him, he wasn't the only one. "In return for a five year contract to promote their souvlaki and other products. I mean, can you believe that? Me? Promoting souvlaki in TV commercials? It's like I died and went to heaven -- without dying first!" *I don't believe this* Nick muttered under his breath. This was definitely in the category of too good to be true.' "I don't know, Schanke,..." he began aloud. "What's the matter, Knight? Tad jealous, are we? This is the best thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life; can't you feel even a little happy for me?" "It's not that, Schank. I just don't want you to be hurt." "Yeah. Right." He walked over to his former Captain. "My gun and my badge, Captain. It's been real, folks, but I'm outta here. Any of you get to LaLaLand, look me up." "Los Angeles?" Nick wasn't sure how many of these shocks he could take in one day. "You're going to Los Angeles?" "You got it, pal. Land of the December sunburn. That's where their American operations are based. Ariachos, I mean. They've given me a $200,000 check for the first year, and $10,000 in expense money to help with the move. They're taking care of all the immigration stuff, even finding us a place to live in California with a good school for Jenny. Myra's tickled to death. Sun, sand and beach, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, all year round. No more winters in the frozen North for us, no sirree. And Vegas only a car ride away! I'm telling you, this is the life!" He smiled as, for once, his normally garrulous partner was speechless. "See ya around, guys. Watch for me on the small screen. I'll be the guy on the beach in shorts and a t-shirt, eating a souvlaki sandwich! Hasta la bye-bye!" And he jauntily sauntered out of the police station -- and out of Nick's life. * * * * * "I knew it was too good to be true!" Nicholas accused. "You did this!" LaCroix shook his head with mock sorrow. "That's gratitude for you." "I've told you to leave my mortal friends alone!" Nick's eyes flecked with gold, reflecting his anger at LaCroix's cavalier attitude. "I haven't hurt your pal' Schanke." LaCroix sneered the words. "Quite the reverse. I've made him wealthier than he would have been if he spent another twenty years on the police force. If he wasn't crippled or killed by one of the dregs of Toronto society first." "You had no right to interfere!" Nick retorted. "On the contrary, Nicholas. I had every right. More than; I had a duty. To you, to Janette, to myself. To our Community. Detective Schanke was becoming suspicious. You know that. He had become resistant to your manipulation. I was able to contain the situation for the time being, but what would happen the next time you *flew like a bat* in front of him? No, Nicholas. It's time to face facts. My way or the Enforcers. Which would you prefer?" He paused. "Unless you are ready to abandon this foolish mortal incarnation of yours and move on?" "No." Nick considered LaCroix's words for several moments, then grudgingly nodded. He hated to admit it, but his master had a point. It had become increasingly difficult to protect the secret from his partner. How much longer could he have managed it, with Schanke's suspicions now aroused? How would he explain things the next time something *odd* happened? "And the money?" he inquired suspiciously. "Would I do that to your friend?" LaCroix smiled a shark like smile, but Nick just glared at him, demanding an answer. The elder vampire shrugged. "All quite real, I assure you. Ariachos owes me a few favors. He was more than willing to cooperate when I suggested this to him. So you see, Nicholas, it's really for the best. Schanke gets money and a new career in television advertising, and you get to keep playing policeman in Toronto. I think it all works out remarkably well, don't you?" "Yeah. I guess so." Privately, Nick was relieved that LaCroix hadn't chosen to deal with the problem in his traditional manner by eliminating his former partner. "Good. Now that that's settled, there is something else I want to talk to you about." "Something else?" "Our Janette is leaving Toronto." "Janette?" Nick looked up in confusion. "Leaving Toronto?" LaCroix nodded. "I feel sure she will wish to discuss the matter with you herself, Nicholas. But I don't want you giving her a hard time over her decision. She misses Paris and wants to go back for awhile. There's a club on the Rue St. Honore that she's had her eye on for years, and it just became available. I've told her that I think the change will do her good." "But -- what about the Raven?" "Miklos and Brianna can manage until she returns." He smiled, observing the hope that suddenly sprang into his son's eyes. "Particularly since I will still be around to protect her interests. And *yours*, Nicholas. I am not going anywhere. The Nightcrawler will always be there for you."